let me count the ways
by thecandymonster
Summary: On Sakura and Sasuke and the impossibility of round-eyed, pink-haired, yosh!-ing babies . Because he loves her punches better than anyone else’s kisses.


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_**let me count the ways**_

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On the days he actually can take the time just sit and think, Sasuke knows that he will always love her. That she could do anything, anything in the whole entire world, and he would still wait for her and follow her and come back to her like some silly lost puppy. If she wanted to, she could leave him. She could tell him she hated him. She could curse him and his ancestors, down to that very first Uchiha brat. She could break his nose, his legs, his arms – she could try to kill him. And he would still love her with every beat of his damn soft heart.

Hell, she could go off and sleep with that freak Lee, get pregnant, give birth to six round-headed babies with monstrous black eyes and shiny pink hair, and Sasuke would still be there when she was done. He might even find it in him to love the spawn, if she asked him too. If she wanted him too. If there was even some small part of them that told him they belonged to Sakura. Maybe. He can't really think about it too long, because his heart starts hammering and there's a stinging, swirling feeling in his eyes that tells him Lee would be dead the moment yosh!-ing babies dashed out of Sakura's stomach.

Not that _that_ would ever happen, of course. Sakura would never do anything to hurt him. Not like he has done to her so many times that some days, when he wakes up and her eyes are smiling hazily at him, it hurts to breathe. The days he wishes he were the kind of man that could swallow his pride and shame long enough to fall to his knees and beg forgiveness. But Sakura's not like him. Sakura is braver, stronger – _better_. Sakura does not let her monsters haunt her; she destroys them as easily as she decimates the Earth beneath his feet. He would say as easily as she destroyed his defenses, so long ago when he came back to a dead sensei and a village of nothing but rubble and dust, but that wouldn't be fair; those barriers took time and effort. He spent too long building up walls of hate and distrust to let the ramparts fall easily, even if the fists swinging were powered by the strongest woman to ever live. The most beautiful woman to ever live. The kindest. The very best.

(Not that she's _always_ perfect; sometimes, she is prissy and vain and disagreeable and _so annoying_ that Sasuke cannot honestly stand to be in the same room as her, let alone speak with her. And her rages are something to behold. Or, rather, something to run from.)

And she's with him. She loves _him_. Uchiha Sasuke. The bastard, the traitor, the all-around worst possible fit for such a fiery, amazing kunochi. Really, it's not fair in the least. Sakura deserves someone better, someone who can match her smile for smile, laugh for laugh, not a cold pretty face with less than five expressions and a vocabulary not much larger. Even though he's getting better. And trying. To be more human and more alive and more loving and more of the kind of person he knows she deserves and wants her to have. He does love her, after all – loves her so much that sometimes, at odd moments – like when she's singing in the shower or he's folding her skirts – it sneaks up and shocks him. All over again, Sasuke knows: He _loves_ her.

Which brings the point back: He will adore her forever, no questions and no buts. He would love even if she did something horrible and wicked, though he knows she never will. Which is maybe why he loves her so much in the first place. He's been hurt so many times, felt the sharp sting of betrayal so often it feels like habit, but his Sakura is not capable of such treachery. And even if she were, he would love her. Because he knows she wouldn't. But he feels like a liar, a needy sod, because it's not fair to say that's _why_ he loves her. He loves for many other things as well. He loves her for her smile, and her laugh, and her temper, and her brilliance and for the _breathtaking_ resilience of her, just her, just Sakura. There are a million other reasons that he cannot even think to name.

And here his logic starts to blur and spin, and the headache starts and Sasuke wishes he could stop himself from thinking in circles. But then Sakura is there, eyes smiling and hand on his shoulder, asking him _what's wrong? You ok?_ and he knows it doesn't matter _why _he loves her, because he just _does. _So he just shrugs and hn's and accepts the rolled eyes and gentle – for her – punch to his shoulder that comes with the admonishment of: _Use your words, Sasuke!_

Well, he loves her punches better than anyone else's kisses.

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**endnote:** The line, "well you love his sneezes more than anyone else's kisses" (which, obviously, is dead similar to my last line) comes from the film, 'Two Days in Paris.' I found the quote on LeLove, a lovely blog everyone should check out for a daily dose of warm-fuzzies at: leloveimage (dot) blogspot (dot) com. And the thing up above is ridiculously long-winded and sappy and silly. Lo siento.


End file.
